


Kink One: Panties

by ChasingRabbits, thepinupchemist



Series: Cas and Dean’s Excellent Kink-venture [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Dean in Panties, Fluff and Smut, Kink Exploration, Kink Negotiation, Kinks, M/M, Panties, Panty Kink, Shameless Smut, Smut, Top Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 11:09:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1302685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChasingRabbits/pseuds/ChasingRabbits, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepinupchemist/pseuds/thepinupchemist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel makes a discovery in his boyfriend's sock drawer: a satiny, lacy discovery. Little does either party know, but one pair of panties leads to a roller coaster of kink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kink One: Panties

Castiel is a chronic sock-loser. It’s one of the many fabulous downsides that Dean has discovered about cohabitating with Cas. They made the move a little over two months ago, and even though Cas and Dean had been dating for three entire years exclusively with one another, Castiel still had to drag Dean into the agreement kicking and screaming.

For the most part, it’s nice. Cas likes having somebody around that wakes up early for his shifts at the salvage yard, because he always wakes up to eggs, coffee and at least three or four breakfast-flavored kisses. He likes nighttime when they watch television together and slowly end up flopped over one another and swaddled in blankets. He loves when he shifts awake on weekends and Dean’s limbs are wrapped around him like an octopus.

So, Castiel can deal with Dean forgetting to brush his teeth, and Dean can live with Castiel’s inability to keep track of a pair of socks for more than two weeks at a time.

This morning, he’s found one navy sock, one white, and one taupe. He resorts to rummaging in Dean’s sock drawer -- just to borrow a pair for the day, he tells himself -- when his knuckles skate across something cool and smooth.

Castiel frowns.

He opens up the drawer just a little more, wincing as it squeaks. He gapes at what he finds.

There, among folded boxer briefs and several lines of matched pairs of socks is a single pair of satin panties. They’re pink, edged with lace along the top and legs. Before he can stop himself, he reaches in and pulls them out. They’re big. And they smell like Dean.

“Hey, Cas, what’s the hold up? Sam wants us over in like forty five --”

Dean rounds the corner into their bedroom and catches Castiel pink-handed, so to speak. He looks from Cas to the panties and back again and lamely states, “I can explain.”

Dean thinks Castiel suspects him of cheating. Oh, this is too good. He tries to suppress a smirk and swings the pair of underwear around with one finger as he says, “Panty kink, Dean?”

Cas’ face splits into a broad grin as the color rises on Dean’s cheeks. It’s actually sort of fun, watching Dean shift his weight from foot to foot as he tries to think up something to say.

“They are nice, aren’t they,” Cas turns his attention back to the soft pink fabric rippling between his fingers. He can only imagine how they must look clinging to Dean, hugging each angle and curve, just barely able to contain him.

When he looks up, Dean still hasn’t made eye contact with him.

“Look,” he starts before Cas can say anything else. “It was one time a long fuckin’ time ago.”

“A hell of a torch to be carrying for one time a long fuckin’ time ago,” Cas remarks and licks his lips when Dean flushes further. Crap, is this one of those times that sarcasm is insensitive? Sometimes it’s still hard for him to tell. He clears his throat and looks down at the panties, now wadded up in his fist.

“I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t like to see you in them,” he says then. “If being seen in them is something you’d like.”

Relief hits Dean’s face and he lets his shoulders sag. It relieves Cas in turn.

They’re supposed to meet Sam and Jess at one, but as it stands right now, that may not be what happens.

He holds the panties out to Dean and feels a thrill shoot up his spine when he takes them into one of his big, rough hands.

To Castiel’s dismay, Dean drops them back into the dresser drawer and slides it shut.

“Let’s, uh,” Dean shoves his hands in his pockets, “Let’s talk about this later. We don’t wanna be late.”

Castiel’s brows furrow at this.

He’s pretty sure that he didn’t do anything wrong.

“Are you okay?” he asks as he sits down on the edge of the bed.

Dean watches him pull on his socks, eyes unwavering.

“I’m fine,” he replies, though, and Castiel sometimes has no choice other than to just believe Dean for the time being.

Cas finishes getting ready.

They make it all the way into the elevator before Cas decides to say, “Dean, I’ve told you before that you can tell me anything.”

“Jesus,” Dean mutters and mashes the ground-level button half a dozen times.

“Dean--” but he doesn’t get a chance to finish the thought before the elevator doors open and Dean springs out like a racehorse at the Kentucky Derby.

Well, this will certainly make for an awkward meal. Castiel, despite the urge to assure Dean again that it’s okay -- not only okay, but that it’s actually wonderful and he’d love to see Dean in a little pair of panties, all pert ass and thick legs and --

He really needs to end this train of thought.

Dean cranks the volume up on the radio and sings along to a classic rock song that Castiel has come to recognize but still doesn’t know the title of. It makes him smile, and the atmosphere of tension at the sock drawer discovery has melted away by the time that the pull into a parking space behind their favorite dive, a fifties-themed diner that has pretty waitresses that Dean likes to flirt with.

When they walk in, Sam and Jess have already arrived. They grin and wave Cas and Dean over to their booth.

“Heya, Sammy,” Dean grins, “and Jess. Lookin’ way out of my brother’s league as usual.”

“Shut up,” Sam says, and Jess laughs.

One of Dean’s favorite waitresses, Lisa, pulls up to their table and takes their drink orders. Castiel selects his customary black coffee, while Dean and Sam both go for Cokes. Jess sticks with her water, a tiny smile on her face.

“So, uh,” Sam says, “There’s actually a reason that we invited you guys out today.”

“Yeah, I figured that when you were all like ‘blah blah blah big announcement, Dean, blah blah blah,’” Dean says, “You guys put an offer on the house on Cherry?”

Sam huffs and says, “No, we’re still thinking about it. Actually, we’re thinking about it pretty seriously because, um. Well. Jess is pregnant.”

For a second, nobody says anything. Then, Dean slams his fist down on the table and says, “Well, shit, Sammy. Knew you got strong swimmers.”

“Dean,” Sam protests.

“What? I’m excited,” Dean says, “Uncle Dean’s gotta nice ring to it. Plus I get all the benefits of a bundle of joy around while you guys get to clean up the poop. It’s awesome. I’m stoked!”

“Congratulations,” Castiel says, “I’m certain you two will make a very attractive child.”

“Hell yeah,” Jess says, “It’ll be the best-looking baby on the face of the earth.”

“Only ‘cause I can’t knock up Cas,” Dean says, “because hands down, me n’ Cas would make magic together. Isn’t that right, baby?”

Cas snorts and agrees, “Yes, Dean.”

Dean preens, and does so throughout the entire meal. He loves kids--every month at the shop they have a day where kids can come in and listen to volunteers read to them, and Dean has volunteered every single time since he and Cas met.

Castiel has nieces and nephews of his own, most of whom he never sees. It would be nice to have a niece or nephew he could actually hang out with.

He glances over at Dean when he’s midway through recounting one of his and Sam’s youthful misadventures. Sam winds up embarrassed, half-heartedly defending his boyhood naivety as Dean boisterously mimes some painful-looking accident.

Beneath that loud-mouthed, irresistibly charming (albeit goofy) exterior is a man who has a pair of pink panties nestled deep in his sock drawer. Try as he might, he can’t get his mind off of it. He wants to say something, but he doesn’t want to say the wrong thing.

Dean is usually pretty good about him saying the wrong thing, but he’s never said the wrong thing about something so sensitive before.

“Cas?” Jess nudges his foot under the table, pulling all of his attention to her. She smiles and asks, “Are you all right?”

“I am,” he nods, offering her a smile. “I’m very happy for the both of you.”

And very obviously starting to get an erection if he doesn’t get the thought of Dean hard up and straining the fabric of those damned panties out of his head. They will be in for a very awkward situation when they need to stand up and leave if that’s the case.

Thankfully, Sam shifts topics to work and Castiel can allow his cock to be bored into submission.

Sam is wonderful, and what he does is very wonderful, but that doesn’t make the thought of sitting at a desk for hours on end any more interesting. At least, not to Castiel, and definitely not to Dean.

When the meal is over, Dean exchanges hugs with Sam and Jess. Though they’ve done it time and time again, there’s always an awkward pause before either hugs Cas.

Mostly because Cas only just started hugging back, instead of standing still and waiting for it to be over.

“Wait,” Dean pauses, halfway into the driver’s seat, and looks over the top of the Impala at Sam. At least, that’s what Cas assumes, as he can only see Dean’s legs from where he sits in the passenger’s seat. “I don’t have to go to a baby shower, do I?”

“And what if you did?” Sam asks.

“C’mon,” Dean groans, “Isn’t there a bachelor party equivalent to having a kid? One last hurrah before spending the next twenty years pretending you never smoked pot?”

“Goodbye, Dean,” Sam insists.

“It’s a valid question!” Dean exclaims. “I’m no good at baby shower stuff. All the games and shit… pin the tail on the baby or whatever.”

“You think there’s a game called pin the tail on the baby?” Castiel asks as Sam says goodbye again and shuts his car door.

“Ass,” Dean mutters as he sits back down and shuts his own door. There’s a brief pause before a smile breaks out on his face. “I’m gonna be an uncle.”

He looks at Cas, “We get to be the kickass cool uncles.”

Cas smiles and lets out a hum at the thought. Sam and Jess having a baby is great, but the fact that Dean is so excited makes Cas excited too. He imagines how fun it will be to watch Dean and his niece or nephew play together, the way that Dean jokes around with the kids at the shop.

The thought puts a smile on Castiel’s face for the remainder of the car ride back to the apartment, but as soon as they’re in the elevator and on the way back up to their floor, the pair of panties surface again in his head. His mouth goes dry and he wonders if Dean can see him flush.

As soon as Dean closes the apartment door behind them both, Castiel folds his arms over his chest, cocks a single eyebrow, and says, “I’d like to hear about the panties, Dean.”

Dean groans. He whines, “Can’t we talk about this later?”

“You said that before lunch.”

“Can’t we talk about this never?”

“What if I barter with you?” offers Castiel, “An exchange. You tell me about your experience with the panties and why they’re in your sock drawer, and I will tell you about a kink that I haven’t previously discussed with you.”

“You have kinks I don’t know about?” Dean says, “We’ve been together for ages, dude. What the hell?”

It only takes another quirk of the eyebrow for Dean to look guilty all over again. He rubs the back of his neck, a blush high on his freckled cheeks, and mutters, “Fine. I’ll...tell you, or whatever,” he takes a breath and says, “It was a long time ago. I was like nineteen, dude. This chick named Rhonda had me try on her panties before we, y’know, rocked the boat. And I...I really liked it. So I bought those a few months after when I finally had the nuts to go into a Victoria’s Secret and pick out something I liked. And from time to time I like to wear them and jerk it. The end.”

“I think I would love fucking you in panties,” Castiel remarks.

Dean perks up. A strange little smile appears on his face and he says, “Yeah?”

“Oh, yes. Very much.”

“Then let’s do it,” Dean says, but pauses, “Only after you tell me your kink, though.”

Castiel fidgets. He had hoped that after he wheedled a confession out of Dean that they could enjoy the panties and Dean would forget all about Castiel’s other little kinks. Cas runs a hand through his hair and feels his cheeks flush with heat. He says, “I, ah. Like it when -- I like to be choked.”

Dean’s eyebrows sweep up into his hairline, and he folds his arms over his chest.

“No kidding,” is all he says, and Cas rolls his eyes because he is just standing there and giving him that look.

“It was also, as you said, a long time ago,” he scratches the back of his arm. “When Meg and I were dating back in freshman year. I was being too loud and,” Castiel shrugs. “It was an accidental discovery, but a happy one. I, um. I don’t let people do it, really. For obvious reasons.”

Or, maybe not wanting to end up on Investigation Discovery, or worse, TLC’s Sex Sent Me to the Emergency Room, isn’t obvious to everyone.

He’s had long, elaborate fantasies that have included Dean behind him, one of his thick, rough hands snaking down his belly to wrap around his cock, and the other pressing down on his neck until his head starts swimming, but he’s never brought it up because.

Well.

How exactly do you tell someone you want them to choke you just so you can come harder?

“What?” Castiel asks when he realizes that Dean is staring.

“Nothin’,” Dean shrugs. “If we’re doing this whole kink for a kink thing, does that mean I get to choke you?”

“One at a time, Mr. Winchester,” Cas reaches over and pulls the dresser drawer open. He grabs the panties and shoots them off of his index finger right into Dean’s chest. “I believe there was talk about me fucking you in those panties after I shared.”

Dean looks from the panties against his chest and up at Cas, smile barely contained. “Hang on,” he bites his lip and disappears into the bathroom.

Heart pounding and palms sweating, Cas takes an eager seat on the edge of the bed. He can hear Dean rustling from the other side of the bathroom door and tries to will his dick into sitting still for two seconds while Dean changes.

The effort goes to hell when Dean emerges from the bathroom, the very picture of every erotic fantasy that Castiel has had since his first wet dream. It’s made even better by the flush of Dean’s body, on his chest and apples of his cheeks and up to his ears. He fidgets a little and squirms under Castiel’s gaze.

God, who knew that Dean’s cock could look any more delicious than it already does on a regular basis? Trapped in pink satin and lace, dark head peeking from the waistband and thick shaft pressing against the material -- he looks like -- God, what does he look like? He just looks perfect.

“You’re starin’, baby,” Dean says.

“Well, yeah, I’m staring,” Castiel says, “You look magnificent. I think I’d like to give you a blow job. Or maybe finger you while you wear your panties. Or maybe both.”

“Both is good,” Dean says, and the shyness fades away into an easy laugh. This is the kind of humor that Castiel and Dean typically share in the bedroom. They like to laugh between the sheets and tease each other between kisses and moans. Never, even at the first bud of their relationship, were they embarrassed or awkward. The fire between them came easily as breathing air.

Castiel licks his lips and murmurs, “Get on the bed.”

Dean cracks a smile at the order and moves without hesitation to obey. He pauses just before he climbs up and asks, “How do you want me?”

Castiel considers it. He could have Dean with his legs spread out and his eyes all glassy and lips slick, while they’re nose to nose and Cas is as deep inside as he can be. Or…

“Hands and knees,” Cas decides.

Dean positions himself, palms sinking into the mattress.

Fuck. He looks even better like this, contours of his ass all visible through clingy, sheer fabric. There’s something incredibly satisfying about seeing a grown man, broad-shouldered and hairy-legged, on a bed with his ass in the air, wearing a pair of tiny pink underwear.

“C’mon,” Dean says, “I’m so fuckin’ hard right now. I’ma die if you don’t touch me.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Fuck you,” Dean says.

“No, I’m fucking you,” Castiel replies, and Dean makes a noise of frustration.

Castiel reaches forward and brushes his fingers lightly over the warm satin, delighting in the soft sigh that shudders out of Dean’s chest.

“There,” he declares. “I touched you. I’ve saved your life.”

Dean makes another noise and white-knuckles the bedsheets, and Cas has to bite back his smile. Teasing Dean is one of life’s greatest pleasures, he’s discovered.

And it serves him right, looking as mind-alteringly fuckable as he does.

Who gave him the right?

Cas fingers the lacy trim around the leg hole, paying close attention as Dean’s muscles start to quiver and quake. He slips his finger beneath the fabric and brushes softly over his hole, down over his balls and just to the base of his cock before he pulls back out.

He moves the panties aside just so and nips softly at one cheek, and then the other. Dean is trying to be quiet, trying to be good, and that’s what pushes Castiel into finally giving Dean what he wants. At least part of it, anyway. He stretches to knock open the drawer of their bedside table and fishes for the lube.

With fingers coated, Castiel pulls aside the panties with his dry hand.

“C’mon, Cas,” Dean groans, and thumps his fist onto the mattress, “Damn it.”

“Be patient,” Castiel says, and skims the rim of Dean’s entrance with the tips of his slick fingers.

Dean takes in a soft, sharp gasp as Cas slips one finger inside. Sure, maybe that still qualifies as teasing, with the way he so slightly wriggles his finger, or pulls all the way out and slides slowly back in again.

Castiel shifts the panties aside a little more, needing the full visual of his finger sliding in and out of Dean. He adds another, the stretch of Dean around him sending a jolt straight to his cock. Dean shifts down and buries his face into the bed, ass sticking straight up as Cas works him open.

Castiel crooks his fingers and presses right into Dean’s prostate, pulling a low, happy mewl out of Dean’s throat.

“Just so you know,” Castiel swallows. “This is about the damn sexiest thing I have ever seen.”

Dean’s breath hitches at that, his legs spreading slightly of their own accord. Cas reaches under him with his free hand and cups Dean’s erection. There’s a wet patch that hits his palm, and Cas sighs.

Ah, crap.

“Turn over,” he instructs, withdrawing his fingers, and Dean obeys.

His cock strains hard at the pink satin, his entire body is flushed bright pink. He’s splayed out over the bedspread, a sight Castiel has seen countless times, except for these damn panties.

These damn wonderful panties.

Castiel sinks to his knees and grabs Dean by the hips, pulling him forward so he’s on the edge of the bed. He bends forward and starts mouthing the hard outline of Dean’s cock, satin tickling over his lips, barely containing the smell, the taste.

Dean writhes under the attention, and Cas has to press his thighs into the mattress to keep them still. He flicks his tongue over the head and looks up at Dean, grinning.

The blush on his cheeks makes his freckles stand out.

Cas traps Dean’s thighs under his arms and runs his hands up his torso, feather light on the way back down. Dean’s breath hitches, “Cas, please.”

Castiel looks down at where Dean’s balls poke out under the satin and lace, and leans in to drag his tongue over the hot, musky skin.

Dean lets out a frustrated groan.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“This is what happens when you’re not specific,” Castiel replies frankly, and keeps lapping at Dean’s sac, waiting.

“Damn it, Cas,” Dean snaps, “Blow me. Fuck me. Do something, man, ‘cause I’m goin’ out of my mind here.”

Not that Dean isn’t usually an animal when they’re in bed together, but this is a whole new level of lust. It makes Castiel feel primal and wriggly all over, like he’s got the libido of a teenager again instead of a man approaching thirty. He stops lapping to lift his eyes to meet Dean’s and then strokes the backs of his knuckles over Dean’s stubbled cheek.

“You look beautiful,” Castiel says.

Dean flushes all over again. A crooked smile tilts up one side of his lips. He says, “Jeez, Cas. You sure know how to get into a guy’s panties, don’t you?”

An unexpected burst of laughter bubbles straight from Castiel’s lungs and he hangs his head. Dean starts laughing after Castiel won’t stop, but when their faces hover close between chuckles, the laughter ceases. Dean stares up at Castiel and Castiel stares back. Castiel can’t help but think that this may be more than just a kink, that it has to do with acceptance -- even a new step in the relationship. “Moving in” had seemed big, but somehow, this feels bigger.

“Ah, stop looking at me like that,” Dean says, “Just take these off of me and fuck me before I flip you over and take care of it myself.”

Well, Castiel wouldn’t mind that, but he does like the control that Dean has allowed him. He slips back to pull off the remaining articles of clothing on his body and reaches for the lube again, slicking up his cock. He hadn’t realized how much his erection needed attention until he gasps at the cool touch of his own hand.

It’s a shame to see the panties fly to the bedroom carpet, but the melancholy of the moment is cured with the sight of Dean spread out in front of him, so hard and so needy that Castiel can hardly believe it. He surges forward to catch Dean’s mouth in another kiss, hitches up Dean’s legs, and with careful, methodical movements, he starts to press inside of him.

“Oh, fuck,” Dean arches into Cas, everything about every part of him screaming ‘finally’. Castiel seconds the sentiment, choking on his own breath as he slides further and further into Dean.

He sinks down all the way inside and pauses so they can catch their breath, smiling and leaning his head against Dean’s calf where it rests over his shoulder.

“What?” asks Dean.

“I love you,” Cas sighs, still smiling broadly.

Dean lets out a disapproving cluck with his tongue. “Everyone knows it doesn’t count if you say it when you’ve got your dick inside someone.”

“Where did you hear that?” Cas laughs and draws his hips slowly out and then back in again. Dean moans.

“Fuck, baby,” he hiccups. “Fuck, just fucking fuck me, goddamn.”

Castiel chuckles and rocks forward again, as deep as he can go. If Dean’s beyond using anything but the word ‘fuck’, he better stop messing around.

He hoists and adjusts them so he has better leverage and starts a slow and steady rhythm. The bed starts rocking with them, thudding against the wall as Cas picks up his speed.

Dean grabs ahold of the bedspread again, bracing himself against Cas’ thrusts. And still he manages to beg, “harder” and “faster”.

“You love this, don’t you?” Castiel asks, “You love being in your pretty little panties, showing off for me.”

“Yeah, yes,” Dean gasps, “Fuck me harder, please, baby, want to feel you tomorrow. Every time I sit down, I wanna think about you.”

The thought sends Castiel roaring into action. He bucks into Dean hard and deep, scraping his teeth over Dean’s skin. Dean’s nails dig into Cas’ sweat-damp shoulders, holding him close. Each kiss is hard, punctuated by gasps of breath and dirty promises to each other.

Castiel shifts to reach between them and grasps Dean’s cock in his fist, stroking over his erection haphazardly.

“Christ,” Dean whines, “Fuckfuckfuck, I’m gonna come.”

With a high arch of Dean’s back, Dean explodes. He cries out at a pitch that Castiel has never heard before and the noise is all it takes to send Castiel straight up the peak toward his own orgasm. Only a few, thorough thrusts more, and Castiel curls into Dean, sated and whole.

Well.

Castiel feels he can get behind the panty kink, he thinks.

Then Dean lets out a satisfied little ‘woop’ and plants his fingers in Cas’ hair. Castiel’s gaze flicks upward and he sees Dean’s face bright with a happy, spaced-out smile.

“So, uh,” Dean clears his throat. “I don’t know about you, but that was hands down, out of all the times we’ve fucked, best ever.”

Castiel chuckles into Dean’s shoulder, his thumb stroking idly over Dean’s sweaty, blotchy pink chest.

“I think you may be,” his voice cracks over the crest of a yawn, “correct in that assessment.”

“All right, let me up,” Dean reaches down and gives Castiel a few quick swats on the ass. Castiel makes a petulant noise in return, but abides by Dean’s request. He then calls from the bathroom, “And don’t get any spunk on the duvet again. That shit was a bitch to clean out last time.”

“Of all the things he could be anal retentive about,” Cas mutters to himself, but is very careful not to get anything that isn’t already on the sheets on the sheets.

Dean returns, swiping the come off of his stomach with a damp washcloth. He bends and picks up the panties with his free hand, before reaching out and plopping the washcloth onto Cas’ stomach.

“Oh, thanks,” Cas coughs, surprised. “That was nice of you.”

“Yep,” Dean sits beside him, looking at the panties. Castiel watches him as he wipes himself off, and then comes up behind him to snake his arms around his shoulders.

“They do look amazing on you,” he affirms and kisses Dean just below his ear.

Dean lets out a fond laugh at that, his eyes crinkling at the corners briefly before he turns to Castiel.

“So,” he poses, “When do we get to do the Boston Strangler?”

Cas squints at him and pokes him in the fleshy part of his side, causing him to twitch in on himself and--Castiel swears--shriek.

“Come on,” Dean leans back, bringing them both back down onto the bed.

“Dean--”

“Please, sir,” Dean asks in what has to be the most horrendous British accent ever. “May I have some more kink?”

“Oh Lord, Dean,” Castiel laughs.

“I’m serious, man,” Dean continues in his normal voice and rolls over, his chin resting just above Cas’ navel. “That was the best thing we ever did just now. I wanna make you feel that good.”

Cas moans involuntarily at the thought. Dean’s hands around his neck as he drives down into him, or, god, with a necktie fastened around his neck, tugging gently as he fucks Castiel from behind.

“Don’t think I don’t feel that,” Dean bounces his eyebrows and sends out his most charming boyish grin.

“Fine,” Cas concedes with a sigh.

“Oh, poor you,” Dean rolls his eyes and climbs up Castiel until they’re face to face. “Your boyfriend offered to fulfill your sexual fantasies. What a hard life.”

Dean leans in close and grins, “Hard life. Get it?”

Cas groans and pushes Dean’s cackling face away from his.

“How about we just do them all?” he suggests, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Three hundred and sixty-five, one for every day of the year. Choking one night, bondage the next, tying me to the bed and edging me until--” he runs out of breath just as he chokes over his own tongue.

Because that actually sounds quite wonderful.

He rolls to his side and suggests, seriously this time, “Dean, what if we did that?”

“I don’t know if my nips could take nip clamps for three hundred and sixty five nights straight,” Dean answers with every note of truth in his voice.

“Not that, then,” Cas rolls his eyes. “But I’m being serious, Dean. We could go on a… kink frenzy.”

“Kink frenzy,” Dean nods, a smile on his face. “Oh, I like that.”

“Yes,” Castiel nods. “Let’s do it.”

Dean looks at him and gives him a smile, “Cas and Dean’s Excellent Kink-venture?”

He mimes an air guitar and Cas frowns.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

Dean stops dead.

“Castiel Novak if you tell me we’ve been together for three years and you’ve never seen Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure, I’m going to be pissed.”

“I don’t know what that is, Dean.”

“That’s it,” Dean sits up. “Fuck choking you, we’re watching a movie now.”

Cas snorts and hides his face in his hands.

His broad-shouldered, butch, Great Dane of a boyfriend bounds out of their room in nothing but sweats, warning Castiel that he has five minutes to make himself presentable and get out into the living room.

For once Castiel is happy he can’t keep track of a pair of socks.


End file.
